


Warmer

by CoralFlower



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Begging, Cock Warming, Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Dom/sub, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Men Crying, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, POV Third Person Limited, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn with Feelings, Sub Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlower
Summary: “So you think... you want to prove you aren’t a failure, by making me feel good,” Virgil says, and Roman nods, letting out a sigh of relief that Virgil feels against his neck.“Exactly!” Roman says. “So can I--”“Roman, that isn’t healthy,” Virgil says. “You aren’t a failure. You don’t need to prove yourself. Sex isn’t for coping. We do this to feel good, not to stop feeling bad. If you’re feeling bad, you should talk to me instead.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...so this was gonna just be a short and filthy cock warming oneshot but then it turned into uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh feelings? a vent fic about coping with trauma? idek!
> 
> anyway this is a human AU
> 
> warning: graphic sexual things, since apparently not everyone reads tags. read the tags!

“Please,” Roman says, leaning in close and pressing his lips to Virgil’s jaw. “I need--”

Virgil puts a finger to Roman’s lips, and Roman shuts up so fast that Virgil can’t help smirking.

“Give me space,” Virgil says, and Roman steps back, face flushing pink.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just-- I’ve been waiting _forever_ \--”

“It’s been twenty minutes.”

Roman pouts, and Virgil looks away, because he’s weak to that and Roman knows it.

“Please?” Roman says, and Virgil shakes his head. So of course the only solution for Roman is to sink to his knees, look up at Virgil plaintively, and pout out his lower lip. “Are you sure? Please, I need you now, Virgil, I can’t wait any longer. It feels like I’m dying.”

He even squirms, and Virgil feels his face heating up as he looks Roman up and down. Because Roman is always beautiful, but he’s especially beautiful like this: begging for Virgil, on his knees for Virgil, undressed for Virgil.

“I’m busy, Roman,” Virgil says. He turns back to his notebook, leaning over the desk, and peeks at Roman out of the corner of his eye to see his reaction.

“No, please,” Roman says, and he sounds so desperate, so gorgeous. Virgil sighs, and turns back to him.

“Sit,” he says, pointing at the floor beneath his desk, and Roman scoots over, looking up at him quizzically. “Now stay.”

Virgil scoots his chair in, blocking Roman in, and returns to his note-taking.

“Can I touch--” Roman starts to ask, and Virgil hums like he’s thinking about it.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says, reaching down to unzip his fly. The way Roman’s breath catches is gratifying. “You can keep my cock warm if you like, but I don’t want you sucking or doing anything else to distract me. Understood?”

“Okay,” Roman says.

“I’m basically going to be ignoring you,” Virgil clarifies as he takes his cock out of his boxers. “Are you okay with that?”

Roman breathes in shakily.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I-- I don’t-- how long?”

“As long as I need to finish these notes,” Virgil says. “Maybe a half hour, maybe more. Can you handle that, baby?”

“No,” Roman says. He doesn’t even consider it.

“Can you handle trying?”

This time, it takes a little longer, and Roman answers more quietly.

“I think so,” he says.

“Use your safeword if you need to,” Virgil says. “Now, come here.”

Roman groans as Virgil slides his cock into his mouth, and Virgil grabs a handful of his hair and yanks.

“That counts as distracting,” he says. Roman tries to say something-- probably an apology-- around him, and Virgil heaves a sigh. “I just need you to stay perfectly still and quiet, baby. Grab my ankle if you need to stop.”

Roman makes an affirmative sound, and Virgil shudders. His mouth is so hot. He can feel Roman breathing, mouth hanging open, jaw slack, and just the sensation of resting on his tongue is almost too much. Virgil shuts his eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to resist the temptation to just fuck Roman’s face right now, but it’s difficult. It would feel so good, and Roman would make these happy little sounds as he choked on Virgil’s cock, and afterwards he’d say _thank you_ , voice meek and unobtrusive, because--

Roman loves attention. He loves being the center of Virgil’s focus, and he loves making Virgil feel good. He likes _belonging_ , but what he loves more than anything is-- being used. Being _useful_.

“Good,” Virgil says, patting Roman’s hair. He looks back at his notes and tries to focus as he plays with Roman’s hair, but even though Roman isn’t moving, he’s still so distracting. Just knowing he’s there, under the desk, naked and probably even hard, is enough to drive Virgil crazy. He wants to go back on what he’s said and just take him now, but--

If he waits, it’ll be so much sweeter. Roman will be whiny and pliant and he’ll beg completely unprompted (not that he doesn’t anyway). He’ll tremble with every word Virgil speaks and lean into the slightest of touches, and it’ll be beautiful. Virgil contemplates that, staring at his notebook, until Roman makes a soft sound. Virgil looks up and realises he was just thinking about Roman for five minutes. Fuck.

He tugs on Roman’s hair, relishing the way it makes him groan.

“Quiet,” he says, just a little meanly, and Roman whimpers. “What did I just say?”

There’s no sound, no response. Virgil notices Roman is holding his breath.

“Hm. That’s a little better, I guess,” he says.

Okay. Notes. Actually focus this time. Roman starts breathing again, and Virgil shuts his eyes. There’s no way he’s gonna be able to focus. Not like this.

But he probably won’t have to wait much longer. Roman is terrible at patience and terrible with being ignored, and he’s probably working himself up into a rage about how unfair it is, that Virgil is doing work with Roman _right there_ , ready and willing to be used.

Sure enough, it’s barely another three minutes before Virgil feels Roman shudder, and then a hand on his ankle as Roman pulls back.

He’s already begging.

“Please Virgil please please, please I need you, I need--”

“Hush,” Virgil says, scooting his chair out and leaning down to pull Roman up into his lap. He kisses him to shut him up. His mouth is warm and wet, and Virgil tastes his own precum as Roman groans into his mouth. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, pulling back. Roman gasps.

“I-- love you, Virgil, please--”

“You want to suck me off?” Virgil says, just a little teasing, and Roman nods, grabbing onto Virgil’s shirt and clinging.

“Yes,” he says. “Oh, please--”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Virgil says. He smirks.

“No-- no? I can’t? Virgil, why not, did I--”

“Shh,” Virgil says, and Roman shuts up with a whimper, burying his face in Virgil’s chest to hide. “Look at me, baby.”

Roman looks up at him, and Virgil’s eyes widen, because Roman has tears in his eyes. He’s sniffling.

“Are you--”

“Please,” Roman gasps. “Please, please, I’m dying. I need you-- need you to pay attention to me. Need you to need me, please, you need me, right?”

“Of course I need you,” Virgil says, and Roman sobs, throwing his arms around Virgil’s waist and holding on tight. “Babe, you have no idea. I wanted to just fuck your throat that whole time, believe me. I didn’t even write anything once I got you under the desk. Okay?”

“Oh,” Roman says, pouting with his forehead touching Virgil’s. “Really? You-- I-- You need me?”

“I always need you,” Virgil says, kissing Roman on the cheek and smiling at him. “Roman. Baby. You’re my prince, yeah? My sweet, beautiful prince. The best man I know. How could I ever stop needing you?”

Roman smiles, then, tears still running down his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yours, all yours. Please--”

“Use you?” Virgil asks, and Roman nods, hiding his face in Virgil’s shoulder again. “Hm, what do you want this time, baby? You want my come on your face? Down your throat? In you, maybe?”

Roman makes a humiliated sound against Virgil’s skin, and squirms.

“I-- nnh. You choose? Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

“I want you to choose,” Virgil says. “You did so well being patient for me today.”

Roman hums, and lifts his head to look Virgil in the eye.

“I want--” he swallows, and looks away. “On my face.”

“Sorry, what?” Virgil says. “You want what on your face?”

Roman pouts.

“You know what I mean!”

Virgil grabs a handful of his hair and tugs sharply, turning Roman’s head to the side to speak right into his ear.

“ _Say it_ ,” he growls, and Roman makes a choked, gasping sound, hips lurching forwards against Virgil’s thigh-- he loves being spoken to this way.

“I want-- I--” Roman cuts himself off, and shakes his head.

So Virgil tilts Roman’s head back to expose his neck and bites. Roman squeals, arching his back, and holds on even tighter to Virgil’s waist.

“Virgil--”

“Say it,” Virgil says, “or I’m not going to give it to you. You know how this works, Roman, you don’t have any excuse.”

He goes back to biting down on the same spot, and Roman whimpers.

“Come-- come on my face,” he gasps. “Please, I want you to come on my face, I need--”

“Good boy,” Virgil whispers, letting go of Roman’s hair. He kisses the angry red spot on Roman’s neck that’s definitely going to become a bruise, and wipes Roman’s tears away. “Good, good, that’s exactly right, baby. How are we doing?”

Roman breathes in shakily. He breathes out as a whimper.

“G-good,” he says.

“You don’t sound too sure,” Virgil tells him, holding him gently and kissing his forehead.

“No, I-- it’s good. Um-- but-- please be nice now. Just--”

Roman bursts into tears, and Virgil pulls him in close again, letting him rest his head on his shoulder and rubbing his back in circles.

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, let it out. You’re so sweet for me, so good, you know? Whatever you need, that’s what I’ll give you. Okay? It’s all gonna be fine. I’m here, I’ll take care of you.”

Slowly, Roman’s sobs peter off into sighs, and then he says,

“Love you.”

Virgil pats him on the back.

“I love you too, baby. You alright?”

“Yeah,” Roman says. “Just-- got overwhelmed, a little. It wasn’t anything you were doing at that moment, just-- what we did before, with having to stay still and let you work.”

“That makes sense,” Virgil says. “I know that was hard for you. You want a break? We can cuddle--”

“Um, I just wanna keep going now,” Roman says. “I want-- y’know.”

“You want me to come on your face?” Virgil asks, and Roman nods, looking away. “Alright, baby, that’s no problem. Let me know if you need anything else, okay? And as always, no matter what else I tell you, make sure you let me know if you stop feeling fine.”

“Okay,” Roman says.

“Good boy,” says Virgil. “On your knees for me now, sweetheart.”

Roman slides down onto his knees, and wipes another tear away.

“Gorgeous,” Virgil says, taking the time to look Roman over before he begins. “Really, baby, you’re just so beautiful.”

Roman smiles shyly. It’s such a huge contrast from how he usually acts, and Virgil loves that side of him too, has grown to love it over the many years since he and Roman got their acts together and stopped tearing each other down every chance they got, but Virgil especially loves this, loves getting to see him with his walls all the way down. He remembers the first time he saw Roman vulnerable like this-- that red leather jacket he always used to wear-- and how he leaned back against the lockers with his eyes shut and sobbed. That time, Virgil grinned and jeered at him, and relished the hurt, wide-eyed look on Roman’s face as he looked over at Virgil and then fled to the bathroom. And Virgil knows-- he’s never going to do that again. Not to anyone.

“You’re beautiful,” Roman says, and Virgil grins and tears up. So much has changed, and it feels like Virgil has the whole world on its knees for him. “Please-- Virgil, please.”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, pulling Roman in gently. He rests the head of his cock on Roman’s lower lip and pets his hair as Roman takes a deep breath and then ducks his head down. Fuck-- he’s so warm, so wet, so good at this. Virgil makes sure to let him know. “Oh, that’s so good, baby. Yes, just like that. You’re perfect.”

Roman whimpers around Virgil’s cock, and Virgil breathes in sharply, thighs tensing as he struggles to keep his hips still. Roman wants him nice, wants him gentle, so he’s going to be gentle and soft and sweet. It’s just-- fuck, it’s so hard sometimes, when his body wants to move roughly.

“That feels-- so _perfect_ ,” Virgil gasps. “Oh my god, Ro. You’re-- so beautiful.”

Roman hums, and then Virgil’s hips do buck, just a little, and Roman makes a worrisome choked sound and pulls off, hugging himself and looking miserably at the floor.

“Sorry,” he whimpers, and that’s how Virgil knows--

“This isn’t what you need, is it,” he says. “Roman, baby, what do you really want?”

“It’s fine,” Roman mutters. “I just-- sorry, sorry, I can--”

“Come here,” Virgil says, and Roman climbs up onto the chair with him even as he protests, even as he tries to say everything’s fine, even as the way he’s trembling and shaking makes it clear that he’s not.

“I’m okay,” Roman says. “I can-- I can keep going, I want to keep going, wanna be good for you, Virgil--”

“You’ve stopped feeling okay,” Virgil says, and Roman hesitates, wipes his eyes, and then says,

“No--”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

Roman sighs, and slumps into Virgil’s chest, choking on sobs as he tries to keep them in.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, I-- I’m-- I’m a _failure_ \--”

“Roman, remember what we talked about?”

“Oh,” Roman says. “Fuck, I forgot, okay. Um. I _feel_ like a failure. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Virgil says, trying to ignore the tightly wound concern in his chest-- he should have noticed sooner. “Why do you feel that way?”

“Cus--” Roman sobs. “Cus I’m not-- I can’t make you feel good. Not-- not today, not right now, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Virgil says. “Roman, you don’t have to. You aren’t a failure.”

“But I _am_ ,” Roman insists. “I’m-- I’m supposed-- you _need_ me.”

Virgil sighs, rubbing Roman’s back soothingly, and Roman chokes out another apology.

“I love you,” Virgil says. “And when I look at you, on your knees-- when I see you, when we do this... Yeah, it feels like I need you, like I’ll die without you, but Roman-- even more than that, I need you to feel okay. I need to know you’re safe, that I’m not making things worse when we mess around. I don’t want to screw you up.”

“But I-- Virgil. I’m-- you don’t understand, you don’t get it.”

“Okay,” Virgil says, feeling frozen, feeling like there’s something inside him chomping on his guts and twisting everything up into a huge mess. “I’m sorry. What don’t I understand?”

Roman sighs, and sniffles, and wipes his eyes.

“I’m not... not worth anything else, okay? This is--” he slides out of Virgil’s lap, back onto his knees, and smiles a smile that reaches his eyes, a smile that’s too bright, that he puts his entire face into, and says, “this is all I am, you know? I don’t mind, I like it, so...”

“Roman,” Virgil says, numb and horrified. “You-- what--”

Roman nudges Virgil’s legs apart and kisses his inner thigh before trying to take his cock back into his mouth, and Virgil puts a hand on his face, pushing him away.

“Virgil--”

“Stop,” Virgil says. “Roman, stop. This isn’t what you’re for. I-- when I say I love you I mean I love you for everything. For just talking, for just hanging out, for--”

“No,” Roman says, shaking his head. “Virgil, that’s-- you don’t have to pretend all that matters, because I know it doesn’t. You won’t hurt my feelings, okay? I know I’m-- I know this is all anyone could ever want me for--”

“Remember what we talked about,” Virgil says, and Roman sighs, suddenly shaky.

“Okay I-- I _feel_ like this is all-- Virgil, that doesn’t work, it-- I _know_ this is all anyone could ever want me for. I really don’t feel weird about it, I don’t need to be needed like, like a normal person.”

“That’s fucked up,” Virgil breathes, so quiet he isn’t even sure he’s said it afterwards until he sees Roman’s face fall. “I mean, just-- here. Tell me about your day. Tell me why you were so jittery when you got home, okay? Let’s talk about it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Roman says, squirming on his knees just like earlier, but this time it’s just worrying, not hot.

“C’mere,” Virgil says, and Roman shrinks in on himself, shaking his head. Virgil leans down, lifting him up, and stands from his chair, carrying Roman into their room and setting him down on the bed. “I want to know what happened today.”

“It doesn’t matter, Virgil,” Roman says, shaking his head and reaching for Virgil’s hips-- Virgil pulls the covers over both of them and wraps Roman in his arms.

“I’d still like to hear about it,” he says.

“Fine,” Roman says. “It’s just-- just a waste of your time, but-- well. I fucked up today. Did bad in theatre. It’s not a big deal.”

“That sucks,” Virgil says. “How do you feel?”

Roman shrugs.

“I dunno,” he says. “It’s not important. Virgil, can we _please_ just keep on going--”

“I want to know how you feel first,” Virgil says. “Roman, this is important to me. Please.”

“Okay, whatever,” Roman says, snuggling into Virgil’s chest and tucking his head up under his chin. “I just-- feels bad. I messed up. I’m a failure.”

“So you think... you want to prove you aren’t a failure, by making me feel good,” Virgil says, and Roman nods, letting out a sigh of relief that Virgil feels against his neck.

“Exactly!” Roman says. “So can I--”

“Roman, that isn’t healthy,” Virgil says. “You aren’t a failure. You don’t need to prove yourself. Sex isn’t for coping. We do this to feel good, not to stop feeling bad. If you’re feeling bad, you should talk to me instead.”

“I-- but I-- that’s _hard_ ,” Roman says, and Virgil sighs, holding him close.

“You’ve done hard things before,” he says. “You can do this hard thing, too. I won’t tell you it’ll be easy, but I do know you can do it. All I need you to do is try, okay?”

Roman pouts.

“Okay,” he says. “So then... I told you how I feel, so can we please keep on going now?”

“Do you actually want to?” Virgil asks. “Or do you just think I want to?”

Roman shifts uncomfortably, and Virgil knows the answer just from that.

“I mean...”

“I’d rather cuddle, to be honest,” Virgil says, and Roman sighs, but Virgil can tell he’s relieved, because he relaxes into Virgil’s arms, scooting even closer under the covers.

“Alright,” he says. “Um-- I love you. I’m sorry for today, I usually-- I said some weird stuff, huh?”

Virgil doesn’t really know how to react to Roman’s flippant attitude.

“It worried me,” he says, and Roman swallows.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Usually I have all that better under control. I mean, like, of course I know I’m worth more than just...”

He trails off, and Virgil gets the impression he doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying, he just doesn’t want Virgil to worry about him.

“You’re lying,” he says. “Roman, it’s... I love you. Just... promise me you’ll bring it up with your therapist later?”

“I don’t want to,” Roman says. “But... for you, I will.”

“Thank you,” Virgil says. “I know it’s hard. But I think it’ll help.”

“I know,” Roman says. “You always want to help me. I don’t get it. But-- but I like it, anyway.”

“I like to help you,” Virgil says, and Roman wraps his arms around Virgil’s waist and pulls him closer.

“I feel good around you,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what it is, but I like it. I like you a lot. I just wish-- I wish I could, could be the same. I wish I could be worth as much as you are, because you deserve it, Virgil, I want it so bad.”

“I love you,” Virgil says. “Roman... you already are. You’re worth just as much as me, okay? You’re good enough. You make me feel so happy, Roman, just watching you smile makes me feel at peace. I love watching you do the things you love. You’re an amazing actor, and a great singer, and every day I feel lucky to know you. I’m not making this up, okay?”

Roman is crying.

“Oh,” he says. “You-- am I really? Really worth all that to you? You--”

“I promise,” Virgil says. “You’re worth so much. I wish I could show you. I wish I could make you feel it.”

“Thank you,” Roman says. “You-- it’s okay. This is... this is really good. I really think you’re good for me.”

“I’m glad,” Virgil says. “I’m trying. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Roman says. “Sorry I have so many issues. I just-- it’s hard.”

“I know,” Virgil says. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

“Together,” Roman agrees, taking Virgil’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Virgil smiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning** : implied past rape 
> 
> hello! this was supposed to be a oneshot but i've written some backstory that i wanted to share! this is near the beginning of roman and virgil's relationship. it was like a roommates to lovers thing that they sorta just fell backwards into, they're in their third-ish year of college.
> 
> This chapter is in Second Person (from Roman's POV) and I will not apologise. If you think you don't like 2nd person, give it a shot and just leave without commenting if you hate it, please. Understanding 2nd person takes practice, and it'll seem weird to you at first, but just because a story seems weird to you does not mean it's bad.
> 
> If I add anything else to this story, it'll be to experiment with POV, so you might see some first person, or second person detached (which i invented afaik) later. it depends how i feel! i'd also like to try first person detached :0 so i might do that too!
> 
> this is like a better incarnation of my old davekat fic, now that i actually understand how consent and relationships work lol
> 
> Enjoy!

“Roman,” Virgil says, voice too-gentle, and you worry at your lip nervously. “You haven’t been safewording when you need to, have you.”

And you pout, bringing your knees to your chest to hug them. 

“Yes I--”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You sob, hiding your face in your knees and wishing he would just stop, just back off.

“Roman, you know this doesn’t work if you don’t enforce your boundaries. You have to safeword when you don’t like something.”

Whatever, it’s not like he gets it. You just don’t wanna try because-- until you say it and he keeps going you can always hold it in reserve, like a security blanket.

“You can’t make me,” you mutter, and Virgil lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“I can’t do this,” he says, and you turn to look at him over your shoulder, eyes wide, afraid.

“Virgil,” you say softly, choking back tears. “You don’t mean--”

“I like you,” he says. “I like you a lot. But this guilt has been eating me alive and I won’t keep fucking around with you when I can’t even tell when you want me to stop.”

You blink tears out of your eyes and bite down hard on your lower lip, utterly frozen, unable to think of anything to say. Until Virgil gets up and starts to walk towards the door.

“If you need me, I’ll be on the couch,” he says.

“You could-- you always ask me and I don’t know what to say or how to choose or what any of it even means, just-- nothing’s ever fucking simple with you. At least I could count on my ex to fuck me into the mattress every night whether I liked it or not--”

“Roman!” Virgil exclaims, and you cross your arms.

“You wanna try different shit all the time and you ask what I think and what I want and this’d just be so much easier if you would fucking make me take it, Virgil.”

“You mean--”

“You know what I mean!” you snap. “I just. Safewords are dumb. It’s just, what, a word? Four letters? What the fuck difference does it make if you wanna hold me down?”

Virgil is gaping at you from the doorway, totally flabbergasted, and you shrink back, realising that maybe that hadn’t occurred to him, maybe he never would’ve--

“You really think I’d do that?”

Oh god.

“Anyone could,” you croak out, struggling because your throat wants to close around the words. “Anybody could just. Make me.”

“Roman--”

“That’s just how it is,” you say. “That’s life, okay, that’s how shit works.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Virgil says, and it sounds like he’s crying, so you look up. “Roman. I can show you how it’s supposed to go.”

“You said--”

“Have you ever even had vanilla sex?”

You swallow, and look away, and apparently that’s all the information Virgil needs.

“Roman,” he says. “Next time we fuck...”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to,” you say, trying to taunt him, trying to sound less vulnerable, and he sighs, comes back over and lays down again, next to you.

“Roman,” he says, wriggling his way under the covers. “I always want you.”

Oh. That makes you blush, so you hide your face in the pillow, uncomfortable with what it’s making you feel.

“Stop that,” you say muffledly. “I’m nothing special, just--”

“Baby,” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder, and you tense, afraid he’s gonna try to make you show your face. “Fuck, how do I say this... Maybe I could be doing this with anyone. I guess. But-- Roman, nobody’s like you.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Nobody’s like _you_. You’re-- you’re perfect, Virgil--”

He’s shaking his head.

“No I’m not,” he says. “I should’ve brought this up sooner. Roman, baby... We can go slow. We’re going to go slow no matter what you say about it, because I’ll be too scared to do it any other way... But we can go as slow as you need, okay? Even if we never go as far as we have again. Whatever you feel alright about and want.”

“Nothing right now,” you say, voice a sob. “Nothing for a while. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Virgil says. “The library is having a theatre-themed trivia night next week, I’ve got some friends who have been pestering me to join their team.”

“Cool,” you say, trying very hard to mean it because that sounds like a lot of fun. “That’ll--”

“They’ve got room for two people,” Virgil says, and you frown. “Do you want to join with me?”

“Yes,” you say, sitting up halfway on one elbow in excitement. “Are you kidding? Of course I do! Oh my god, we’re gonna win!”

Virgil smiles, and you haven’t forgotten about the conversation that just happened, but you’re grateful he’s letting you act like you have.

“With you on the team, definitely,” he agrees. It makes something in your heart go all soft and warm and mushy, like soggy pizza. It’s gross, but Virgil doesn’t seem to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> comment pls


End file.
